In Her eyes
by Kim The Manipaltive Little Mo
Summary: J/H fic. An expected encounter has an unexpected outsome.


Title: In Her Eyes

Fandom: Jekyll and Hyde, OCB Musical version.

Author: Kim, The Manipulative Little Monster

Rating: R.

Summary: An unexpected meeting leads to unexpect consquences.

Pairings: Emma/Jekyll, Lucy/Jekyll, Lucy/Hyde and gasp! Lucy/Emma. 

Author's Note: This fic sort of came to me a long time ago, and I've been fighting writing it for awhile. However, now that's it's come full force, I'm finding I'm really enjoying it. Based on the musical, of course, in which I see Coleen Sexton as Lucy and Andrea Rivette as Emma and David Baywatch as Hyde. I know, I know, but gets watched the most cause I love the girls. And speaking of girls, this story has Fem/Slash. You don't like it, don't read. Simple as that.

Disclaimer.: I don't own these characters. Also, certain words were borrowed from the show, and they are listed in italics. 

Chapter One:

__

I peer through windows…

She shouldn't be here. She knew that this was ultimately frowned upon, a blurring of the lines between the worlds that separated the two classes. A quick dismissive glance down was made at the clothing that she had attempted to wash before her walk down here today. Nails brushed the fabric quickly, scowling slightly as the brocade twisted, threading over her fingers. She was conspicuous, here, even she was aware of that. 

Ladies with thinly veiled scorn moved past her, seeing as her dress stopped above her ankles, showing the scuffed boots that she wore. Quick pulls of the skirt were offered, causing the graying petticoat below to show even more then she did. Cheeks blazed for a second before she remembered who she was. She was after all, Lucy Harris. She was the Queen of the Red Rat and most of the frigid bitchs' husbands paid to enjoy the curves of her body.

Pockmarked parchment was crushed between her fingers, the water mark on the corner making the white embossment seem almost dingy. Carefully the meat of her thumb rolled over the name that she knew was there, even if she wasn't aware of what the lines spelt out. "Dr. Henry Jekyll." The name was said softly, lush lips forming it with a traditional emotion; one saved for Mea Culpas. She was now finally standing almost at his front door. 

For a moment her jaw dropped, falling in amazement at the woman who was sweeping stately through the very door and down the steps to the street. Shuffling of feet was made, the card twisted once again through nervous fingers. Snatches of conversation were shifted towards her. "_Show him the flowers, Poole, and the nourishing things I brought. If you can get his attention, say to remind him that there are other things in his life… myself for example_." 

Delicate fingers pulled the gloves over her hands as Lucy watched, her mouth dropping slightly. It was inevitable really, wasn't it? A fiancée simply had to be in the picture somewhere. She swallowed for a moment, taking a step backwards into the shadows as she attempted to hide herself from the woman in his life's eyes. Chin moved forward before she spoke to herself in a soft tone of voice that was hidden by the approaching carriage and the fact that it was muttered below her breath.

"A friend nothing more. Surely there can be no objects to a visit for his services." As she spoke the word, skin on her back constricted, the soft fabric of her undergarment feeling like another slicing of the stick against her flesh. The gasp was bitten off by the lips that he had abused. Hyde… the name roasted, brandishing in her mind like the cloak of the outer animal that it was. Edward Hyde, simple and unassuming… and somehow a complete lunatic. A dangerous one at that.

Attention was pulled once more towards the house, and she saw that the carriage had finally reached it's destination. Two men got out, clearly in some sort of deep discussion. The older of the men spoke quickly, sharply as he looked at Emma. His voice was low. "He must be losing his mind. How can he not know how he is effecting her? The gossips are spreading rumors with vemhance. He didn't have many supporters before, but now he has even fewer. The weeks to wedding are an important time, and here he is wasting his time and effort upon something that doesn't have a chance of succeeding!"

The younger man, Utterson was a familiar face to her. It fit as well, of course. After all, he was the one who had brought Jekyll to the Red Rat. There too in the outlines of his face was anger, and detachment, as if guilt was there inside, waiting to be confronted_. "This is outrageous! He is sacrificing everything important in his life to this experiment!_"

The trio closed in upon itself at that point, and Lucy simply watched, her blue eyes once more taking in the form of Jekyll's fiancée. Sharpened shards of jealousy poisoned their way through her veins, a sensation that she normally found herself lacking. There was no need for such innate jealously. Jekyll didn't belong to her. Someone with that sort of lifestyle couldn't be, and never would. Fingers touched her shoulder lightly, the briefest amount of pressure on her back causing her to gasp.

Fingers of pain twisted themselves upwards, rolling over her back. Tears pressed into her eyes, thick and saltine, obscuring her view. Still, she touched the marks again. That was the sort of symbol that her callers granted her. Purpled skin and broken welts were the only engagement offers that she would have. There was no illusions in her head. Lucy Harris was a whore. Not lover, nor fiancée, nor wife. She was the whore. She was the amusement. For a moment it was that thought that brought renewed flashes of tears to her face. 

But she knew that there was no changing it. That was her lot in life.

Nose and face was wiped quickly on the back of a dirty sleeve. Handkerchiefs such as the one pressed to John Utterson's face to wipe away the sweat was unheard of in her broken little household. If cloth wasn't needed for clothes, then it was brought or bartered for. The man stepped into the carriage that swayed dangerously, and his head bowed. Worry and anger was written quite clearly upon ever line of his frame. His eyes lifted, and her own locked with them, a fierce battle between azure and chocolate. There was an unspoken command for her to leave this place at once, but chin cast forward, her entire posture defiant. Henry Jekyll was her friend, and she needed his help.

Deep breaths were taken, and her composure was slowly restored to her frame. Hand swept upwards, fingers twisting over the mass of the hat. Feather was cast upwards in a jaunty fashion before she shook out the folds of her dress. The fabric was gripped quickly, rolled over her fingers in the manner one normal saved for pious pourings over a crucifix. Something calming, that was all she needed, a sensation to send her across the street and up the marble steps to the oval of glazed venation glass that was set in the entry to his home.

Breath was held, tightening in her chest as her hand was extended. She frowned at the condition of her nails. And her hand. The skin was pale, a washed out shade of old butter compared to the pristine whiteness of the door's boarder. She was clean, as clean as she could be, when soot shed like some sort of divine dandruff over the city, but compared to snow, everything had the graying tint of dinge to it. She swallowed quickly, the lump in her throat becoming rapidly unpassable. 

Nerve was being lost now that she was suitably framed by the door, the curtained window and the black lattice of the cast iron fence. She swallowed quickly, not wanting to be scared away by the thoughts that were twisting over her mind. Eyes were closed, lash making a shadowed circlet against her skin as lower lip was captured between teeth. The flesh was worried for a second before she finally reached for the bell cord and pulled it.

Obscure quote, one that had been imparted to her by a scholarly sort of client rang in her mind as that great bell clamored just inside the house. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, for it tolls for thee." The words filled her with a shiver now, and it impaled her for a moment, as the door was swept open.


End file.
